


leave your demons at the door (what are we fighting for)

by RomanceAddiction



Series: In Every Lifetime [2]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - ARGUS, Alternate Universe - Bratva, Alternate Universe - HELIX, F/M, It has somehow evolved into an S1 rewrite, Ok this is totally just an ARGUS AU, with the occasional foray into undercover Bratva and HELIX
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:35:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 13,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22879576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RomanceAddiction/pseuds/RomanceAddiction
Summary: The first time they met, they were pushed into a reluctant partnership.The next time they met, everything changed.A Bratva(?), HELIX(?) and ARGUS AU. Sort of.
Relationships: Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak, background John Diggle/Lyla Michaels
Series: In Every Lifetime [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1603771
Comments: 53
Kudos: 76





	1. cover art and author notes

The actual story starts in the next chapter so feel free to skip this.

If you haven't read my Inktober series, this is basically an expansion of the AUs I wrote/drew for chapters 6 and 7 of "In Every Lifetime". They were always meant to be a full AU but I split them up when it was getting too long for me to draw and write in two days. 

The first two chapters are these two but expanded with a bit more detail. I was mostly in a rush when I wrote the Inktober fics and it's nice to have time to go back and refine them. =w=

I never have a definite plan when I write though I do roughly know where I might want to end this. How long it'll to get there I'm... not too sure. Hahaha. There's never a definite schedule for my writing and this is my first time really attempting a multi-chapter, plot-driven(ish) thing so we'll see how it goes.

Hope you enjoy~ 


	2. first meetings

The first time they met, they were pushed into a reluctant partnership.

“Kapiushon.” Anatoly gestured at Oliver, a smirk on his face. “This should be fun. We’re working with even more Americans today.”

“Don’t worry,” he winked, “You’re still my favourite American.”

Oliver wore his usual light brown jacket and dark jeans. His hair was short as ever but a straggly beard replaced his usual stubble, a leftover from his last mission. The cut marring his left brow still hadn’t healed, a reminder that he could never let his guard down in this world of shadows and deception.

Felicity had her bright blonde hair tied back in a neat ponytail. Like her father, the infamous Calculator, she favoured an all-black ensemble. Tapping away at her tablet, she let the higher-ups deal with the niceties. She was just here to do a job, nothing more.

Noah and Anatoly shook hands.

“Nice to finally meet the notorious Calculator.” The smile on Anatoly’s face was bright but his handshake was firm, and he retained the steely glint in his eyes.

“Likewise. I’ve heard so much about the all-powerful Pakhan and his ruthless sidekick since we stepped foot in Moscow.”  
Noah shot a sideways glance at Oliver. “It’s nice to be working with you as allies instead of enemies.”

The mission was simple enough. Felicity had to infiltrate one of the ARGUS servers the Bratva had managed to uncover. Oliver stood as her bodyguard. Since it was a covert mission that entailed little risk, the two of them alone would suffice.

As he left, Noah, the Calculator, gave Felicity a piercing look. She rolled her eyes and nodded as faintly as she could. Of course she would watch her back in this den of thugs and hooligans. She wasn't a child.

Infiltrating the ARGUS server room was almost too easy. With the code their informant had provided, Felicity and Oliver slipped in between guard changes.

Quickly hooking her trusty tablet up to one of the monitors, Felicity started to download the information the Bratva and HELIX sought. There was nothing left to do but wait. The silence only broken by the whir of the processors in the air-conditioned room.

“I know what you’re thinking.” Felicity didn't lift her gaze from her tablet, though a frown had appeared between her brows.  
Oliver had learned that the best answer was silence. People usually worked it out themselves. From his position near the door, he merely glanced sideways at her. People were usually unnerved by his staring, it had helped build his current reputation.

“I’ve seen the way you look at me, you know.” This time she did look up, one brow arched and red lips pulled downwards into a frown.  
“Just because I’m blonde doesn’t mean I’m not as capable as the Calculator. I know a lot of people think I got the job because I'm his daughter but I'm at least two times smarter than anyone else in the organization.”  
She pursed her lips, "You didn't hear that from me."

“You’re not.” Why was Oliver even replying when they had a job to do. This was no time for idle chit-chat.

“Wow. He talks. So the rumors that you’re mute were untrue after all.” Felicity struggled to control her temper. They were still in the middle of a mission after all.  
“Not. What?”  
The nerve of this guy.

“Not…really blonde.” It took all her willpower for Felicity’s jaw not to drop open.

“I can see your roots from here.” Oliver elaborated when he saw the look on her face.

A beat passed. The silence was occasionally broken by the steady beeping of the tablet as it continued to download data from the ARGUS servers.

“I’m not mute.”

Felicity raised a brow, “Yes, I can see that. Or rather, hear that.”

Oliver kept his gaze steady at the floor.

“What was that?”

Oliver cleared his throat. “I said, Anatoly says my Russian is horrible.”

The next sound he heard completely took him by surprise. Felicity let out a giggle, quickly clapping he hand over her mouth. Oliver looked up.  
“Is…that why…you…don’t talk???” Felicity struggled to get the words out over her laughter.

And that was when all hell broke loose.

As the computer gave a final beep to signal the completion of the file transfers, all the lights turned red. Alarms blared.

“Frak! I knew this seemed way too easy. Looks like we triggered a trap.”

As Felicity scrambled to unplug her tablet, Oliver grabbed her hand.

“Run.”

Together, they raced to their secondary escape route, up a set of winding stairs. Every time they encountered an ARGUS agent, Felicity stayed back as Oliver let loose his fists. He had been given strict instructions to take no lives. This time. With both their masks up and hoods on, they would be difficult to identify anyway.

Just as they reached the last door to freedom, an agent appeared out of nowhere and grabbed Felicity’s arm. Instinctively protecting the tablet in her other hand, she attempted to kick wildly, trying to get loose. With one final shove, he appeared to let go.

“Hey, I got one.” Felicity raised a fist in triumph…  
… to see the agent had actually been brought to his knees by something green protruding from the back of his thigh.

“Where were you keeping that arrow?” Felicity asked as Oliver once again took hold of her hand and ran.

"It's a flechette."

"Whatever it was, thanks for the save Robin Hood."

"Less talking, more running."

"Aye-aye, Captain."

Anatoly smirked when he saw them back in the Bratva safehouse.  
"Had fun, Kapiushon?"

Oliver didn't bother with a reply as he stalked back to his room.

Anatoly turned back to retrieve the tablet from Felicity. "Good work, Miss Smoak."  
Behind her, the Calculator's left eye twitched.

Clapping a hand over the Calculator's shoulder, Anatoly grinned. "Come, my friend. Let us see what they've brought us."  
Picking up his vodka, he ushered father and daughter into the Bratva's own server room. There was still much to be done.


	3. second meetings

The next time they met, everything changed.

Felicity was most definitely not thinking about some thug she had randomly met in Russia. Their encounter was a one-off thing. She had a mission to focus on. She was definitely not remembering the smirk he gave when she realized he had taken down the last agent instead of her. He had dimples. What the frak. 

She was definitely not wondering how he would look like if he fully smiled, for real.

Definitely not.

Once again, she reminded herself of her mission. She was so close, she could feel it. It was going to be all worth it. The months she’d spent tracking down her criminal of a father, slowly gaining his trust and working her way up his organization. The amount of data she’d amassed was now more than enough to take down the entire operation. She just had to wait for the right time.

Oliver was definitely not thinking about some hacker he had randomly met in Russia. Their encounter was a one-off thing. He had a mission to focus on. He was definitely not remembering the sound of her laughter. He was just supposed to stand there and guard the door. A simple task. They weren’t supposed to have a conversation. He wasn’t supposed to make her laugh like that. 

And he definitely wasn’t supposed to be looking forward to hearing that laughter again. 

He was not looking forward to meeting her again. Not at all.

He told himself to focus on the mission. He was so close now. He’d spent so long cursing his time on Lian Yu but it had unexpectedly come in handy. The months spent training and proving his worth to the Bratva, slowly gaining their trust as he worked as Anatoly’s right hand. The amount of intelligence he’d amassed was now more than enough to take down the entire operation. He just had to wait for the right time.

Fate intervened in the form of another joint HELIX and Bratva mission. Or perhaps it was luck. Or some sort of sinister machinations going on behind the scenes. Whatever it was, Oliver and Felicity found themselves, once again, paired up.

“Because you two worked together so well the last time,” Anatoly grinned as he gave Oliver a wink.

The mission started well enough. This time, it was a jailbreak. They were attempting to release an ARGUS double agent. She worked in the higher levels of ARGUS, but unbeknownst to them, was secretly feeding information to both HELIX and the Bratva. Her information had come in handy the last time, enabling both organisations to uncover several secret ARGUS bases.   
Unfortunately, her last mission had been a disaster. Her task of infiltrating a Russian prison to gather information, technically for ARGUS but to be passed on to various underground organisations later, had run into an obstacle. And she was now stuck there. She was no use to anyone behind bars and ARGUS wasn’t the type to extract their agents from such situations, expecting them to be able to fend for themselves. In desperation, Lyla Michaels had reached out to her seedier allies. Since the prison was located in Russia and employed state-of-the-art technology, another HELIX-Bratva partnership was inevitable.

Felicity pulled off her role as prison warden, escorting Oliver into his cell. She wasn't sure how anyone could be convinced that she would be able to keep the taller and many times more muscular prisoner under control. But it worked.

Once the coast was clear, she unlocked his door and together, they made their way to the lower levels where Lyla was held.   
The whole route was surprisingly easy and obstacle-free, no guards appeared to stop or question why a Level 1 warden and prisoner were walking around the Level 4 area, which made Oliver and Felicity even more wary. Though they’d only worked together once before, it felt like something would inevitably go wrong at the last minute.

And besides, unbeknownst to the other, they each had their own secret, secondary mission.

When they finally found the cell number they’d been looking for, both heaved a sigh of relief. They glanced at each other.

Neither had planned for this.   
Oliver knew that with his size, and strength, it would barely take any effort to subdue the petite blonde in front of him. He had a job to do and the mission always came first. Always. But yet...  
Felicity knew he had a height and weight advantage. But she was clever. She was resourceful. She had managed to sneak in a taser under her uniform. One small zap and he would be down for the count. She had a mission to complete. But yet...

Oliver opened his mouth to say something, he didn’t know what, but Felicity interrupted first. “Look, let’s just get this over with, ok?”

Oliver nodded.

“Took you guys long enough.” Lyla grimaced as they released her sore hands from the shackles that bound her to the wall.

Felicity continued fiddling with the shackles even though Lyla was obviously already free, gently rubbing the red area around her wrists where they had dug in.  
Oliver continued keeping a lookout for guards though they all knew there were none scheduled to patrol this particular area in the next 10 minutes.

Glancing at the both of them, Lyla silently counted down under her breath.

“I’m sorry, Oliver.”

“I’m sorry, Felicity.”

But before either of them could do anything else, Lyla stepped between them.  
“Stand down, agents.”

One beat.

Two.

Oliver and Felicity blinked at Lyla, then looked back at each other.

“You’re working for ARGUS!?”

In the distance, the sound of hurried footsteps could be heard. Stepping out of the cell, Lyla gestured to her two shocked companions.  
“Escape now, discussions later. You both brought the intel we need?”

Nodding mutely, they followed Lyla down the winding corridors, to the back door that led them to freedom.

The journey back to ARGUS headquarters, in a stealthy ARGUS private jet of course, passed in silence, save for the occasional glance Oliver and Felicity threw toward each other. Behind them, Lyla smirked. It was nice to see plans work out smoothly once in a while.

They managed to last til the debriefing in Lyla’s office.

“Did you know?” Lyla looked up from the computers as the data accumulated from both agents were uploaded to ARGUS’s secure servers.  
Felicity was glaring at Oliver, arms crossed. Oliver looked at the ground, fiddling with a flechette in one hand.

“I didn’t know about any other ARGUS agents. In fact,” he frowned at Lyla, “what happened to Amanda Waller?”

Ah, Lyla was expecting that.  
“Your old mission controller had an… accident. She doesn’t work for ARGUS anymore.”

“She told me she was the head of ARGUS.” Oliver’s hand stopped playing with the flechette.   
He began tossing it between both hands, eyes locked steadily with Lyla's. 

It would take just a quick flick...

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” The guard who’d been silently standing at the door finally spoke up.   
“She's tougher than she looks. And you should learn to behave better in front of the the director of ARGUS like that.”

“At ease, soldier.” Lyla held a hand up as she smiled at John Diggle.   
Turning back to Oliver, she nodded, “She was until a certain …incident. I’ve been in charge since, but it's only been about 6 months so you wouldn’t know.”

Lyla gestured to Felicity, “She does though since I was her mission controller before that.”  
“ We knew that HELIX had ties with certain underground organizations. Since we already had an undercover operative in the Bratva, we decided to steer those two together, kill two birds with one stone in a single operation.”

The pair glanced at each other again before looking away.

“If everything is all in order, may I be excused?” Felicity pointedly ignored Oliver.

“Yes, congrats on a successful mission, Agent Smoak. You are dismissed.” Lyla did not smile, though she did share a knowing glance with John as Oliver’s eyes followed Felicity out the door.

When it slammed shut, Oliver cleared his throat. “So, what now? Am I going back to Lian Yu?”

Lyla shrugged. “Well, that’s up to you now. That was Amanda’s plan but I happen to believe that agents should have some say in their own life so, what do you want to do? Continue working at ARGUS, go back to Lian Yu and wait to be rescued?”

Oliver glanced out the window though whatever, or whoever, he was looking for was already gone. “I’ll stay. ARGUS is… fine. For now.”

Lyla nodded, " Alright then. Congrats on the successful mission, Agent Queen. You are dismissed.”

John waited several minutes before speaking up again. “You really need to stop playing matchmaker with our agents.”

Lyla smiled at her husband. “So you see it too.” She tilted a cheek up for John to place a quick kiss.   
“It’s always better to have something to live for. And I think those two worked well together, don’t you think?”

John just sighed and shook his head.


	4. before the beginning

She said yes, and her life changed forever.

  
It was dumb of her, she knew. After everything, after Cooper, you would have thought that she'd learnt her lesson. Hacking never lead to anything good, whether it was done with good intentions or not.  
And now, here she was. Stuck in some sort of secret prison. Was this how Cooper had...?

She lifted her head at the sound of a throat being cleared. 

"Felicity Smoak?"  
The woman in front of her cell had chin-length brown hair. Her blue eyes were sharp and piercing, but not unkind. The ring on her left hand glinted in the dim light, as her fingers tapped on the tablet she held.

"Who's asking?"

"Someone who's impressed by your... particular set of skills." Felicity raised a brow.  
"Let's just say my higher-ups are interested in what you can do. If you're willing to cooperate, we're willing to drop all charges of hacking into the FBI and CIA."

Felicity sneered," Is that what you offered Cooper?"

Now it was the woman's turn to raise a brow," So you have heard of ARGUS."

Felicity didn't feel the need to respond. Rolling her eyes, she turned away. Better to rot in jail than work with the people who had killed her first love.

There was the sound of fingers tapping on glass.  
"I assume you're referring to Cooper Seldon..."

"Don't you dare--"

"The guy who accepted our offer to save himself from jail, took credit for the work both of you did, attempted to sell the information he gathered working for ARGUS to our enemies and ended up back where he started around..."  
There was a bit more tapping.  
"... 2 floors down."

"...  
You're lying."

"You're welcome to accompany me to check, Miss Smoak."

"Why should I even trust you..."

"Michaels. Lyla Michaels." 

"Why should I even trust you, Agent Michaels."

Lyla smiled," What other alternative is there?" 

Felicity crossed her arms.  
"And what is it you need my help with?"

"Have you heard of someone called... the Calculator?

* * *

He said yes, and his life changed forever.

  
  


The first time, he had no choice. Ears ringing, body shivering, he barely heard what the lady in front of him was saying.   
He had been saved from drowning along with Slade in the broken remains of the Amazo, stranded on an island of purgatory, but it was clear this was no act of kindness.

"You want me to what?" Oliver wrapped the towel tighter around him, his only source of warmth in the cold, featureless grey room.

"Work for me, Mr Queen. ARGUS can see to it that you skills are greatly rewarded."

He accepted, because what other choice did he have.

The second time, he chose willingly.

Amanda Waller had always reminded him of a panther. Always lurking in the shadows, ready to pounce.   
As he waved goodbye to Tatsu at the dock, he could feel her cold presence looming behind him.

"Mr Queen."

"Amanda."  
He folded his arms over his chest.

"You know why I'm here, Mr Queen."

"Yes. And the answer is no."

She smirked, as if his reply amused her. "And where else will you go?"

Oliver looked away.

"Will you go back to Starling City? Pretend to be the son and brother your family lost? Or will you go back to that island and live out the rest of your days as a hermit?" Her smile grew wider, though her dark eyes were never warm or friendly.   
"Or would you like to return to ARGUS? You have a very unique set of skills, Mr Queen. And there is a mission you are well-suited. Come back and serve your country. Don't let your talents go to waste."

Oliver took a deep breath.   
"What's the mission?"

"I take it you're familiar with a certain organization called... the Bratva."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A mini prequel.
> 
> I actually went back to skim the flashbacks for this. So take it as also a mini AU post-S3 flashbacks. Instead of being found by Amanda, again, at the start of the S4 flashbacks, she recruited him once more immediately at the end of the S3 flashbacks. No weird island magic storyline, we're headed straight to the Bratva.
> 
> Also, since Diggle and Felicity have both been ARGUS agents for a while, there is no cameo of them in the S3 flashbacks.


	5. close but not quite yet

Oliver paces around the moderate confines of his rooms in ARGUS. It had been a month.

A whole month.  
And still, he had not been assigned a mission.

Perhaps, this was normal. Oliver's introduction to being an ARGUS agent had been reluctant undercover missions, forced on him by his late mission controller, Amanda Waller. 2 years spent undercover, in 2 different countries. Perhaps he should be grateful for a break.

But still, he feels antsy and ready for another mission. Anything to break up the monotony of life, stuck in ARGUS headquarters. It wasn't like he was a prisoner. But here, back in his home country, there was no guarantee he wouldn't be recognized if he stepped out alone.

Another hour of walking back and forth around his living room area, he decides enough is enough. Oliver doesn't care if he's being a nuisance. It has been a week since he'd gone to Lyla to ask for a mission. He doesn't care how annoying it is, he's going to ask again. Surely, the world couldn't be that peaceful.

Stepping into the common offices, he observes all the non-combatant agents busy at work, typing reports and filing papers. Glancing in the direction of Lyla's office, he takes a step forward...  
...and nearly turns back around.

Ah... there was the other reason he tended to stay in his quarters.  
Her long blonde ponytail sways back and forth as she walks past Lyla's office. Felicity doesn't turn his way as she heads in another direction, mouth turned down in a decisive frown. 

Most ARGUS agents had a home to return to, and even if it was far away, they at least went back during the weekends or holidays. Like himself, Oliver noticed that Felicity was one of the rare ones who lived in their rooms at ARGUS headquarters full time. Wherever she was from, she didn't seem to want to go back.  
And like him, she hadn't been on a mission since their last one, not that he had been keeping track.

He wouldn't call their last mission a disaster... exactly. After all, they'd achieved their goals. Lyla had been rescued and the information they needed had been obtained. With 0 casualties or injuries, he personally felt it was one of the most successful missions he had been on. But, Felicity didn't seem to think so. Or at least, that was what it seemed.  
He hadn't seen her smile since their first mission together. Oliver doesn't know why that bothers him, but it does. And every time she happened to see him, either in the cafeteria or elsewhere in ARGUS, she would immediately frown and find somewhere else to be. He feels... upset by that, even though it doesn't make sense. She's just someone he'd happened to meet twice, after all. Why would it matter so much what she thought of him.

Oliver had spent years with people thinking the worst of him. Parents, teachers, girls he'd cheated on or slept with and never called back...  
Yet, the knowledge that Felicity can't even bear to look at him gives him a twinge in his chest every time he thinks about it. Ridiculous.

He looks up to see a blur coming towards his face and, on instinct, stops it with his right hand. Felicity's annoyed face looms in front of him.

"Why are you following me?"

Oliver looks around. How had he ended up 2 floors below where he had been? He sees a sign leading to one of the ARGUS cell blocks.

"...I'm not."  
Had he? He frowns. He'd just been walking aimlessly for the past few minutes.

"Don't lie to me. I've been watching you. What do you want?"  
She crosses her arms.

"Oh... sorry. I... wanted to look for Lyla but I guess I took a wrong turn."

Oliver looks down at her. She seems... off today.   
What business did she have at the cells?

"Yea I know, I saw you."  
Felicity blinks, then claps a hand over her mouth.

"You... did?"

"N-not like I was looking out for you or anything. You're just stupidly tall and I..."  
She looks away.  
"Bye."

"Hey..." Oliver calls out.  
He nearly reaches out to take her arm but decides against it. She's already mad at him.

She turns her head to look back.  
"What."

"... are you ok?"

Felicity blinks some more. The corners of her eyes seem wet but Oliver decides it isn't a good idea to point that out.  
She pauses and gives him an odd look. He resists the urge to look down as he shuffles his feet.

Nodding, she replies, "I'm fine. Thank you."

Oliver watches her walk away. As she turns the corner, he shakes his head, trying to dislodge the image of her from his mind. 

The strange urge to follow after her, and comfort her, lingers.

The night air is cool on his heated skin. Oliver enjoys running at night. There's never anyone around so he can take his shirt off without worrying about stares. The coolness soothes his scarred skin, especially the burnt portion on his lower back which still aches occasionally.   
Wiping the sweat from his face, he heads towards the gym to clean up. Although he does have a personal shower in his room, the gym's is much closer.

"Eep!"

Oliver nearly jumps too as flicking the light switch reveals a familiar blonde face.   
Her eyes are red, tear streaks still visible on her cheeks even as she hastily wipes them off.

"What are you doing here?"

"I could ask the same of you."   
Oliver wishes he could offer her something to wipe her tears, but all he has is his sweat-stained towel. 

"Are...are you ok?"  
Felicity turns concerned eyes to him. Which is weird considering she's the one who had most definitely been crying. Alone. In the dark.

Oliver's hand tightens on his shirt.  
His shirt. Damn it! Of course,

"Sorry." He mumbles as he struggles to put it back on.

In the blink of an eye, Felicity is standing right in front of him, one hand on his arm.

"Sorry." 

"W-why are you apologizing to me?"   
She looks up at him, bewildered.

Oliver shrugs. For whatever it is you seem to be mad at me about.  
"For showing you the... scars. I know they're hard to look at."

"Hey." She frowns. "Don't be sorry."  
She tries to give him an encouraging smile. "They're proof you survived... whatever it was. Right?"

Oliver can only stare dumbly back. 

The silence drags awkwardly. 

Felicity looks down and shrugs.   
"Well, good night then. I'll leave the gym to you."

As she tries to walk away, Oliver reaches out to one of her wrists.  
"Hey." He keeps his voice low, trying not to startle her, "Seriously, are you ok?"

"I'm fine."

Oliver frowns.  
"Did someone make you cry? Because you can tell me and I'll deal with him. That's what partners are for, right?" He looks down and shuffles his feet.  
" I mean... we've worked together twice now so..."

Felicity puts a hand over his.   
"Thank you." 

She smiles up at him and squeezes his fingers.   
"It's... I don't think I can talk about it right now, but thank you." 

Oliver watches as Felicity, once again, walks away from him.  
The warmth of her hand where it held his stays with him all the way to his room. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to think of a mission for them because that will definitely be the next chapter. 
> 
> Me: //slowly pushes olicity together  
> Just kiss already  
> ;A;


	6. and so it begins

“No.”  
He throws the dossier back onto the table.

Lyla resists the urge to rub her temples. She had expected Oliver’s stubbornness, of course, but still.

“You were itching for a mission just last week, Mr Queen, enough to attempt to barge into my office,” Lyla raises a brow as Oliver glances up.  
“It might surprise you to know that a highly secure government agent has cameras all over its offices, and people who monitor them 24/7. Especially the Director’s office.”

Behind her, John coughs.

Oliver rolls his eyes and continues looking away, arms firmly crossed over his chest.  
“I’ll take any mission but this.”

Lyla slides the folder back in his direction.  
“You might want to really read the details of the briefing first.”

“No. I don’t care if you never send me on a mission again. I’m not going back to Starling City.”

Lyla sighs. Honestly, dealing with her twin 2-year-olds at home is much easier.

“We suspect Bratva activity and you’re the most reliable insider into that world we have. Besides, Agent Smoak here has already established her cover. Do you want her to continue this mission alone?”

A twitch of his left hand. Perhaps not so difficult after all. Lyla tries not to feel too smug.

On his right, Felicity lifts a hand, nearly touching a bicep, then pauses. Shaking her head, the hand drops back to her side. She clears her throat.  
“I really think you should read the details.”

Oliver grumbles, sighs, then slowly picks up the brown folder. Flipping it open, his eyes skim the first page.

He turns to the next one.

Lyla waits.

And... there it is. The little hitch in his breath she had anticipated as his eyes caught a pertinent detail.

“You think my... you think the CEO of Queen Consolidated is behind some sort of... scheme to take over the city?” Oliver scoffs.  
“They don’t need to. The Queens already own Starling, and parts of Central City as well.”

“Not... a takeover exactly.”  
Lyla sits down and leans back in her chair. “ARGUS monitors several companies, especially those at the forefront of developing cutting-edge technology that cannot end up in the wrong hands. Recently, we discovered that Unidac Industries, a company that specializes in researching different forms of alternative energy, has been put up for auction. And we’ve been monitoring it to make sure their technology doesn’t fall into the wrong hands.”

Tapping a few keys brings a list of names up on the monitor behind her. 2 of them are crossed out.

“ Someone is eliminating potential buyers. We need to figure out how and why. And as you can see,” The screen zooms in on a particular name in the middle.

Moira Queen.

“ You have a direct... connection to one of the... many suspects.”

The screen goes black again.

“We don’t know exactly what’s going on, the Bratva keep things close to their chest after all. But we suspect someone may be using Bratva connections to get rid of the competition. Thanks to the intel you two gathered previously, we know their presence has been increasing in that area of the country, though we don’t know why yet. And looking at some of their prototypes, we have to make sure that kind of technology doesn’t fall into their hands.”

“Agent Queen.”

Lyla waits til Oliver is facing her directly.

“Even if your mother,”

He flinches.

“Even if Moira Queen is not involved in this in any way, she’s still on a list of potential targets. Wouldn’t you rather make sure she, and the rest of your family, are safe, yourself?”

Oliver frowns, breathes in deeply.  
The fingers on his left hand have not stopped twitching.

“Fine.” He finally growls.

“But...” he throws the file back onto the table once more, opened to a certain page.

Ah...

“I don’t need a babysitter.”

Lyla knew he would object, but she has already practiced her arguments and gone over it with John.  
“You don’t think a mother, who has lost her son for 5 whole years and finally gotten him back, won’t be a little... paranoid? And maybe... hire a bodyguard for the heir of an international conglomerate and billions of dollars in cash and assets?”

“That’s bullshit. I can take care of myself. I don’t need some ARGUS handler hovering over me every second.”

“Agent Queen!” Lyla’s sharp tone of voice doesn’t affect Oliver at all, of course, but beside him, Felicity gives a jolt of surprise.  
“We do not know how deep this conspiracy goes, or how long this mission will take. But when it ends, and you decide to be a hermit again, perhaps it would be best to have someone who can take the fall for another Oliver Queen disappearance, and clear up any loose ends that may be left behind.”

“...Fine.”

“Good, we will finalize the details of your liaison with Agent Smoak here once you’ve established yourself back in Starling City. In the meantime, we’ll have to establish your return to your old life so... have a fun vacation.” With a nod, she dismisses the two agents.

Oliver stomps out with a frown, probably to pack up whatever he wants to take along on the mission before he has to leave for Lian Yu. Felicity frowns at his retreating back but doesn’t say anything more. She has to get back to Starling City tonight. There’s more work to be done tomorrow morning.

Lyla leans back into her chair again, giving a huge sigh.  
“Well, that went well.”

“Probably better than expected, all things considered.”

Lyla takes the hand he placed on her shoulder and spins around to face him. His face is as stoic as ever but she knows her husband.  
“I am sorry I’ll have to send you back there again. I know Carly still...”

“Hey, it’s fine.” He squeezes her hand.  
“We can just treat it as another short trip to visit her. And I’ll get to see how much AJ has grown.”

Standing up to press a kiss to his cheek, she gives a bicep one last pat. “Well, time to get ready, big guy. You have a job interview to prepare for.”

“Fun.” John deadpans.

Shaking his head, he gives her hand one last squeeze before walking out of the office.

This is going to be a long mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow I finally updated.
> 
> Yes, it is going to be an S1 rewrite. And probably... even further than that since I want to get into Felicity's story too.  
> This is going to be a loooong journey so buckle in folks.  
> I finally know what I want to do with this story.
> 
> Updates probably 1-2 time a week but there's no actual definite schedule.  
> hehehe;;;


	7. a not so triumphant return

Oliver breathes in the salty sea air.  
The wind blows long, straggly locks across his face and he pushes them aside in irritation.

It’s been a month since he came back to Lian Yu. The story of his return has to be believable, so ARGUS dropped him off with plenty of time to prepare for his role as island castaway.

Though, for an island called “Purgatory”, this is the one place where Oliver has felt most alive. Here, there are no obligations, no responsibilities. No one expecting him to be the perfect agent, to be the perfect son. No missions to complete, no legacies to fulfill. It’s home, for the monster he has become, locked away from the outside world. Perhaps he should have rejected Amanda Waller, all those years ago, and remained here instead.  
But it’s too late for that now. The ship that ARGUS will be diverting to rescue him arrives tomorrow.

Crushing the ARGUS satellite phone, Oliver looks around at the remnants of his camp. He has to be found with just the remains of the clothes he wears and the green trunk he’s carried around since his first time here.  
Satisfied, he starts lugging the chest along. He’ll be spending his last night at a clearing near the designated rescue spot. Pulling up Yao Fei’s tattered hood, the only thing protecting him for the elements tonight, he prepares himself for the mission ahead.

Oliver breathes in, choking on the antiseptic smell of the cold room. He hates hospitals.

Honestly, he doesn’t even need a doctor. He’s perfectly fine. But Oliver Queen, 5-year castaway, would need to be here to recover from his island ordeal. After all, how could some spoiled billionaire playboy have survived for so long away from civilization.

Oliver stares, unseeing, out the window.  
Starling City is ablaze with lights in the night, towering buildings rising to the sky. This is his... home. But not really. So much has changed in 5 years. Most of the architecture seems the same but still, he does not recognize this city. He’s different now, so different from the Oliver Queen that stupidly got on a boat to escape his responsibilities. Can he even slip back into that skin? But, he has to. He just has to think of this as another mission to complete, no different from when he had to be a Bratva Kapitan for 2 years.

He can do this.

His fists clench as he listens to the doctor drone on about his scars to Moi— to his mother.

He can do this.

“The Oliver you lost, might not be the one they found.”  
Ha, he resists a scoff. Understatement of the century.

The door opens and footsteps creep nearer. He can do this.  
For so long, he’s been “Kapitan”, “Kapushion”, “Agent Queen”. Now, he is...

“Oliver?”

Slowly, he turns around to face his missio—- his mother. His muscles scramble to attempt a ghost of a smile.  
“Mom.”

“Oh, my beautiful boy.”  
Stepping forward, he prepares himself for the hug Moira tearfully gives. She places a tremulous kiss on his neck.

Oliver Queen is home.

“Your room is exactly as you left it.” Moira flings open the double doors of the Queen mansion. Oliver pauses to take in the wooden walls and pillars of his childhood home. Nothing has changed.

“Oliver.”  
Except the fatherly voice welcoming him back.

Walter Steele, Queen Consolidated’s CFO, and Moira’s second husband, greets him warmly.  
“Damn good to see you.”

He prepared for this. ARGUS’s briefing gave a rundown of all the relevant people in Oliver Queen’s life, his family and closest friends. But still, nothing comes out. It should be Dad greeting me, he wants to scream. It should be Dad here, with Mom.

He looks around and lands on a familiar, friendly face.  
“It’s good to see you, Raisa.”

Like the worn wooden walls, Raisa’s kind smile is familiar and unchanging. She greets him like she always has, smelling of the warm food she has no doubt prepared for his welcome home dinner.

Oliver’s attention is pulled away again by frantic footsteps rushing down the stairs. At the top stands... his little sister. But not so little anymore. She runs into his arms like she used to, sighing in relief.

Oliver smiles.

His room really is the same as it’s always been. Clothes neatly hung in his wardrobe, bed made and waiting for him to sleep in it again. The only addition is the green trunk from the island.

Oliver turns to the mirror, towel sling low on his hips. It’s not that he hasn’t seen his reflection over the years. But this scarred, tattooed body, it stands out in the muted elegance of his former home. Marks him as Other. It does not belong.

He remembers a younger, more naive Oliver Queen in front of this same mirror. Flexing as he admired his gym-toned body.  
Now, all he sees is a weapon. Forged in the fires of Purgatory and years as a Bratva enforcer and ARGUS agent.

He’ll have to remember to keep himself covered up at all times. The scars and burns might be easy to explain away, but the tattoos... who would believe the island was deserted if they saw.

The clock indicates it’s nearly time for dinner. Shrugging on a shirt and sweater, he makes his way down to the dining area.

He shouldn’t have stopped but... the photographs on the small table at the entrance catch his eye. A black and white photo of a young Oliver and Robert Queen look back at him, similar grins on their face. It was the first time Robert had brought Oliver onto the Queen’s Gambit. A guy’s outing between father and son. So happy and carefree, unlike the last time...

Oliver grips the photo frame, reminding himself not to break the glass. There is no use lingering on the past. He’s here to complete a mission, nothing more. Breathing deeply, he tries to pull on the Oliver Queen facade once more.

“What did I tell you? Yachts suck.”  
Oliver pulls up the Oliver Queen smile as he turns to greet his best friend. 

Tommy Merlyn seems the same as he was, 5 years ago. A rugged grin graces his face, though his eyes carry a hint of wariness.   
Oliver is used to it by now. Every one is trying to act as if the past 5 years never happened, like all he has done is come back from a long vacation. But he knows they are all unsure of the man who has returned.

More hugs.  
The 2 friends reminisce about better times as they make their way to the dining room.

Tommy seems adamant on cramming 5 years worth of news into a single dinner. It’s a wonder any of his food has been eaten as he talks non-stop. Sports results, political news, TV shows and movies... It’s endearing, in his own Tommy way. Oliver nods at relevant points, though his attention is captured by Moira and Walter interacting at the head of the table.

As much as his parents have always been portrayed in the media as titans of business and industry, causing the rise and fall of countless companies, he still can’t picture this woman plotting the downfall of this city. The Queens have lived here for generations. Walter too, an intruder into this family, yes, but also a kind figure who always put up with his antics in the office when his father was too busy.

“What was it like there?”  
All movement at the table seems to cease as everyone turns to Oliver. Thea looks back at him with expectant eyes.

Under the table, Oliver clenches his fists.  
“Cold.”

There’s an awkward pause.

Tommy, ever the host, breaks the silence.  
“Tomorrow, you and me, we’re doing the city. You’ve got a lot to catch up on.”

“That sounds like a great idea,” Moira chimes in, smiling.

Oliver seizes the opening.  
“Good.” He returns their smiles.  
“I was hoping to swing by the office.”

Moira and Walter glance at each other.  
“Well, there’s plenty of time for all that. Queen Consolidated isn’t going anywhere.”

“I’m surprised that’s one of the first things you want to do.” Moira smiles, a hint of pride in her voice.  
“I didn’t think you were ever going to be interested in taking over your father’s legacy.”

“I didn’t think you were interested in sleeping with Dad’s CFO, but here we are.” Oliver gives a curt nod.

The silence that follows is even more awkward than the first. Even Tommy is at a loss for words.

“I didn’t say anything.” Thea glances warily around the table.

Oliver shakes his head as he looks back at Moira and Walter. “She didn’t have to.”

As if having the truth out in the open has lifted some sort of restriction, Walter and Moira link hands.  
“Oliver, Walter and I are married and I don’t want you to think that either one of us did anything to disrespect your father.”

“We both believed that,” Walter chimes in, “Robert, like you, was... gone.”

Oliver knows this, the ARGUS files were very clear. They started dating, at least officially, according to the paparazzi, 2 years after the Queen’s Gambit sank. Married a year after that. But when he left on the yacht, it was Mum and Dad. Now it’s... Moira and Walter. A grown up Thea shooting him curious glances over her food. A best friend who smiles like he used to but speaks tentatively and occasionally looks away.

“It’s fine.”  
Oliver Queen nods and smiles.

Pushing away the remains of the dinner he barely touched, he stands up. With a pat on Tommy’s back and a wink at his little sister, he manages to escape back to the relative comfort of his room.

Coming back from the dead is much harder than he expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did a rewatch of the first episode while rewriting this.  
> I always forget how much I love Oliver.  
> ;w;
> 
> Some... subtle changes to the details from the original. Haha  
> Especially if you recognized where I'm starting from in the previous chapter, we're basically gonna squish ep 1 and 3 together. 
> 
> Since he's had undercover training as an agent, I don't think he would accidentally let slip that he knows Russian. Or show off any obvious skills that Ollie wouldn't have had.  
> And yes, 1 month is probably not very realistic for that amount of hair growth, but it's better than a whole wig.


	8. one plus one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be updating this every Saturday and/or Sunday.

Tommy arrives as promised the next day, bright and early and all smiles. The commotion of last night’s farce of a dinner seems to have been forgotten. Or at least, that’s what Tommy wants. Like the old Oliver Queen, his best friend lives in the moment, always looking forward to the next exciting experience life will throw at them.

Oliver wishes he could still be that carefree.

They end up doing a tour of all the clubs and bars they used to frequent. Tommy grins as Oliver raises a brow at his initial suggestion, looking pointedly at the clock and the bright sunlight streaming through the car windows.

“Hey, it’s Happy Hour somewhere in the world right?”  
Oliver Queen rolls his eyes and, with a smirk, lets his best friend give a tour of their old haunts. While the clubs aren’t open at this time of the day, most of the bars are, albeit without the usual crowds, yet.

It’s the 4th bar, and thus their 4th drink of the day, though it’s still barely noon. Tommy sighs as he takes a sip of his beer.  
“Your funeral blew.”

Oliver’s grip tightens on his own mug.  
Oliver Queen grins, remembering the shenanigans they used to get up to, no matter the event. “You get lucky?”

“Like fish in a barrel.” Tommy laughs.  
“They were so sad and huggy...”

“No,” Oliver Queen shakes his head, though the lopsided smile on his face betrays his amusement.  
“You’re so full of shit, Tommy.”

“What, it’s true!” Tommy claps a hand on his best friend’s back.  
“And I’m counting on another target-rich environment for your welcome home bash.”

“I was wondering when you would bring that up,” Oliver Queen smirks.

“Buddy, you know I’ve been planning it since they told me you were alive.”

Both men down the last of their beer, setting the mugs down with a thud. Pulling Oliver out of the chair, Tommy winks as he waves his phone around.  
“Oh the things I have planned. Come on, I’ll tell you all about it at the next place. You’re gonna love it.”

Several wrong turns later, they find themselves in front of a ramshackle building, in the middle of the Glades. Peeling paint decorates the exterior while broken neon signs litter what seems to have been the main parking area.

Tommy taps the car’s GPS in irritation.  
“I swear it was here the last time.”

“And when was the last time you came here.”

Tommy shifts guiltily in his seat, “6 years ago... remember? We were here when the...”

“Oh when we...” Oliver Queen grins and struggles to keep in his laughter.

“Yeah,” Tommy chuckles.

“Didn’t they throw us out and ban us?”

“Well yeah...” Tommy shrugs and waves a hand.  
“But that was like 6 years ago. And who’s going to kick out a castaway who just returned to civilization.

Tapping on his phone, Tommy huffs. “ Can’t believe it’s gone. I swear, the Glades hadn’t even expanded to this area then.”  
He gestures vaguely out the window at the looming building a few blocks away, “No wonder your dad shut down his factory here.”

“Want to go check it out?” Oliver peers out the car window.

“You want to go run around some abandoned factory?” Tommy frowns. “Why?”

“Why not?” Oliver Queen shrugs, then grins at his friend.  
“Where’s your sense of adventure, Merlyn?”

“Oh wow, look at this. Fascinating.”  
Tommy rolls his eyes at the bright yellow “CONDEMNED” sign pasted on the rusting gates that cordon off the area. A short distance away, fading letters mark the building as the remains of Queen Industrial Inc’s steel fabrication and welding factory.

At this time of the day, there are few people out and about on the streets. The few that do, in tattered baggy clothes, shuffle around aimlessly, avoiding eye contact.

Oliver surveys the area, noting the rundown shops. Further down the street, he spots what he was hoping to find. Just beyond an alleyway, he can see a faded sign above an old mechanic shop. It has no words, just a black pointed sun-like symbol, nearly identical to the one above his left chest. So that’s where he needs to start his investigation.

“Know any way in?” Tommy glances back, arms crossed over his chest.

“I think there used to be a back entrance past that alleyway.”  
No harm doing a bit of quick reconnaissance.

“Ok, but if my car gets even a tiny scratch, you’re paying.”  
Reluctantly, Tommy follows down the narrow back lane.

“Oh wow, more rusted fencing. Fun.” Tommy deadpans.

There doesn’t seem to be any movement outside the mechanic shop, and with Tommy as a tag-along, there’s nothing much to be done today.

“My bad. Let’s just go on to the next one, I guess.” Oliver Queen shrugs, though his voice shows no hint of remorse.

“Well, that was a blast. Oh hey, it’s nearly lunch time. If you’re not sick of fish, I suggest we find some leggy models and eat sushi off them. What do you say?”

Before he can reply, Oliver hears the screech of tires behind them. Turning back, he spots men in black hoodies and red skull masks in the approaching truck. From his periphery, he sees a few more advancing towards them from different corners, tranquilizer guns at the ready.

“What the hell!?”  
Beside him, Tommy exclaims, unsure of what to do.

In the blink of an eye, Tommy is hit, falling to the dirty ground with a loud thud. Lifting a hand, Oliver attempts to grab at the incoming projectile but is too slow. There’s a sharp prick of pain at his neck. He tries to fight through the effects, but his limbs start to turn numb, making him drop to the floor.

“Hey, what’s going on here!”  
From a back door in the alleyway, a man suddenly appears, wielding two garbage bags. Without hesitation, one of the skulls turns and fires his machine gun, killing the stranger instantaneously.

That’s the last thing Oliver remembers before everything turns dark.

_Dark waves churning._   
_A lifeboat pushed about by the currents, exposed to the elements._   
_Thirst._   
_His father’s voice in his ear._

“Mr Queen!” Oliver is awoken abruptly with a shove to the head. One of the red skulls is in his face, shouting and brandishing a taser menacingly.  
“Did your father survive that accident?”

Oliver looks around. Tommy is lying unconscious on the ground, tied up on some wooden crates. The area is dark, a few windows high up letting in minimal light. They’re probably in one of the abandoned warehouses beside the old Queen Industrial factory.  
They’ve zip-tied his hands behind the back of his wooden chair. No other restraints. There are only 2 other red skulls behind the one interrogating him. Amateurs.

“Hey, look at me!” The one in front of him flicks the taser in his face again.  
“I ask the questions. You give me the answers.”

Still, Oliver doesn’t say a word.

If his face were uncovered, Interrogator Red Skull would probably be rolling his eyes in frustration. Turning back, he lifts his arms in question at his comrades. They nod. With a shrug, Interrogator turns around and jams the taser into Oliver’s chest.

The shock of it is enough to make him let out a scream. Dammit. He should have been prepared. But still, this is nothing. He’s endured far worse.

Interrogator crouches forward to get even closer to Oliver’s face.  
“Did he make it to the island? Did he tell you anything?” he demands.

Another round of tasing.

Oliver pants heavily. Honestly, is this the guy’s first time doing this? He’s standing so close.

“Yes he did.” Oliver sets his bait.

Interrogator nods in interest, crouching down again. “What did he tell you, Mr Queen?”

One last glance to see that Tommy’s still unconscious. Good.  
“He told me I’m gonna kill you.”

All the red skulls laugh as they step closer to surround him. Interrogator looks around incredulously at his comrades.  
“You’re delusional.” He’s probably smirking behind that skull mask. “You’re zip-cuffed to that chair.”

“Am I?” Oliver presents his freed arms with a flourish, attempting to appear nonchalant though his thumbs ache annoyingly.

Before the red skulls can react, he ducks and grabs the chair from underneath him, slamming it straight into Interrogator’s face. While the guy’s disoriented, Oliver snatches his taser and uses it on him, jamming it into his neck. He punches the guy for good measure and the first red skull is downed.

Turning around, he uses Interrogator as a human shield, making his comrades shoot at him. He flings Interrogator at Red Skull 2, the one closer to him. Disoriented, number 2 goes down as well. Oliver grabs number 2’s handgun and shoots him in the head.

He spots Red Skull 3 running away, There’s two more bullets left in the handgun. It’s more than enough.  
Just before 3 turns the corner, Oliver takes aim and shoots. It hits the guy right in the back of the head. All the men have been eliminated.

With a huff, Oliver looks around at the room, and the four unconscious men on the floor. How to explain this away?

“So that’s your story? A guy in a green hood flew in and single-handedly took out three armed kidnappers?” Quentin Lance frowns, incredulous.  
“I mean, who is he? Why would he do that?”

Oliver Queen shrugs. “I don’t know. Find him and you can ask.”

Lance doesn’t seem convinced but nods anyway.  
He turns to Tommy. “What about you? You see the hood guy?”

Tommy frowns, examining the crude pencil rendering of the stern hooded figure.  
“I saw just... movement. Everything blurry. I was... kind of out of it.”

“It’s funny, isn’t it? Just one day back and somebody’s gunning for you.” Quentin stares accusingly at Oliver.

This has really put a wrench in his plans. Oliver was hoping to avoid as many of his past acquaintances as he possibly could. And Laurel and Sara’s father is definitely one of the top on the list.

“Aren’t you popular?” Quentin smiles without humour.

On the opposite sofa, Moira replies in irritation. “We’re you able to identify the men?”

“Scrubbed identities, untraceable weapons. These were pros.” Quentin’s partner chimes in.

“They probably figured you’d pay a king’s ransom to get your boy back. Or a Queen’s ransom, as it were.” Quentin snarks bitterly.  
“After all,” he turns back to Oliver, “ A parent would do anything to keep their child safe.”

“I don’t find your tone appropriate, detective.” Moira’s voice sounds pleasant, but there is a hint of menace in her eyes as she stares disapprovingly at Quentin.

On her left, Walter attempts to diffuse the tension in the room. “If Oliver can think of anything else, he’ll be in touch. Thank you, gentlemen, for coming.”

Scoffing, Quentin picks up his files and stands to leave. Oliver rises too, facing Quentin in the eye.

“Your luck never seems to run out, does it?” Oliver doesn’t know how to reply.  
What could Oliver Queen possibly say. He has killed this man’s daughter, and broken the heart of another, multiple times.

Without another word, Quentin and his partner walk off.

That night, back in his room, Oliver messages the team about his findings. He doesn’t bother reporting about his brief kidnapping, though they probably already know. There’s a tracker on him at all times, after all.

Diggle responds immediately, telling him to hold back on investigating the suspected Bratva hideout. Irritated, Oliver shoots back, questioning his decision. The longer they wait, the more potential Unidac buyers could be eliminated.  
Cryptically, Diggle just types back “You’ll see.”

With a frustrated sigh, Oliver agrees and finally closes his laptop.

“You are different.”  
Oliver looks up to see Raisa’s warm face smiling at him, a tray of freshly-cut fruits in her hand. “Not like you to stay up late doing work.”

Oliver Queen smiles, reclining back on his chair. “I missed you, Raisa.”

“No kitchen on the island,” Raisa nods knowingly.

“No.” Oliver Queen sighs. “No friends either.”

But he smiles again, standing to take the tray from her to set it on a side table. “Thank you.”  
“Do I really seem different?”

Raisa tilts her head, contemplating.  
“No.” She smiles. “You’re still a good boy.”

If only she knew what he has done, these past 5 years. And putting that aside, the dumb, careless playboy Oliver Queen had been.  
“Oh, I think we both know I wasn’t.”

“But a good heart,” Raisa shakes her head and places a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“I.. hope so.” Oliver Queen smiles earnestly. “I want to be the person you always told me to be.”

Raisa nods and smiles warmly. Wishing him a good night, she leaves him to his thoughts.

Oliver remembers moments, when he was a boy, that he had wished Raisa was his parent instead. She was the one who fed him, cleaned him, kept him company while his mother and father were away on business. Which was most of the time.  
And yet, he doesn’t really know her. She’s always had a motherly air about her, but does she have kids of her own? In the years he’s lived in this house, he doesn’t recall her ever taking a break to go back to Russia. Does she even have a family?

A good heart.  
Like everybody else in Oliver Queen’s life, she doesn’t know the real Oliver. Although, perhaps even Oliver himself barely does.

Is that what his father had seen too? The goodness of his heart, or at least, the possibility of it, all those years ago when he’d entrusted Oliver with the task of saving this city.  
Oliver frowns. After what he’d done in Hong Kong, then in the Bratva for ARGUS, he’d locked that old brown book deep in the green chest he's carried around since Lian Yu. The Oliver that Robert Queen believed in doesn’t exist anymore. There is no way a monster can save anyone, let alone an entire city.  
He's barely thought about it since, focusing instead on his objectives as an ARGUS agent. What use is a list of names of the city's elite? Did his father expect him to become some kind of... vigilante? A modern Robin Hood to steal from the rich and give back to the poor?

Oliver tosses and turns under his sheets. The sooner he can finish this mission, the better. Then, there’ll be less sleepless nights like this, thoughts of his past and present, actions and intentions, churning around in his mind.

Oliver wakes up bright and early the next morning. Despite a sleepless night, years of being on high alert has trained him to wake up at the first sign of dawn, no matter the amount of rest he has had.

He is restless. Since Diggle has asked him to stand down for the time being, he has no plans for the day. Deciding that going back to the Glades to scope out more possible Bratva hideouts is better than staying cooped up in his room the whole day. If Diggle has a problem with where he’s going, he can come to the house and order Oliver around to his face.

“Oliver.” He turns around to see Moira smiling and beckoning him over. Standing behind her, beside a black town car is...

What. The. Fuck.

“I want to introduce you to someone.” Moira smiles and grabs his hand.  
“John Diggle. He’ll accompany you from now on.”

Oliver narrows his eyes as John Diggle gives a small grin.  
“I don’t need a babysitter.”

“Darling.” Walter, ever the peacekeeper, tries to placate Moira.  
“Oliver’s a grown man. If he doesn’t feel he needs armed protection—“

“You know, I understand.” Moira interrupts. “But this is something I need.”

Oliver gives Moira a curt nod, then looks back at Diggle.

Surprise indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oliver swears quite a bit in this fic. Sorry.  
> Though, I'm sure someone who rage-flips tables as much as he does probably would be a little foul-mouthed, if he wasn't stuck in a PG-13(?) TV show. hehehe
> 
> Yes, Oliver and Oliver Queen are kind of different people. In his head at least. 
> 
> And RIP the parkour scene.  
> Sorry, I love it too (it's the reason I decided to continue watching Arrow past ep 1) but it's a pain to write out. Also, I think ARGUS agent Oliver is the shoot first, ask questions later type of guy. pewpewpew.


	9. man of the hour

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Diggle's turn to shine this chapter :3

Queen’s face falls for a brief moment, before schooling itself back into his “billionaire playboy” mask. Lyla was right, surprising Agent Queen was fun. The guy could give him a run for his money when it came to stoicism.

“So this is your idea of a surprise, huh.” Queen grumbles once Moira and Walter have walked away.  
“So what are we supposed to do today? Want a tour of your new workplace?” He gestures sarcastically at the looming mansion behind him.

“Well, if you’d follow me to the car. Sir.” John looks aside wryly at the frowning man next to him.

At first glance, it seems like a normal car interior. Queen stiffly settles into the back as John fiddles with a few buttons from the driver’s seat. Suddenly, the armrest on his right opens up to reveal a small hoard of bullets and several handguns. The dashboard on the front passenger seat slides forward like a drawer, presenting 2 sleek black laptops. Queen merely raises a brow.

John hands one of the laptops to him, keeping an eye on the stash of ammunitions. On paper, Agent Queen’s weapon of choice is listed as... a bow and arrow. Weird but the guy did spend 2 years on a deserted island. He does, however, also has a recorded proficiency in guns, especially during his stint in the Bratva.  
John watches as Queen boots up the laptop and takes a quick look at the files that automatically pop up on the screen.

“Adam Hunt... Carl Rasmussen... These are the potential buyers for Unidac Insustries?” A small crease appears between Queen’s brows. He seems to be lost in thought but John doesn’t think it’s about the list. Odd.

“That’s right. While you’ve been settling down, I’ve had Agent Smoak run the list through some algorithms and arranged them in order of which one’s the most likely to be the mastermind.”   
John sees the moment Queen spots his mother’s name.

“What’s Moira doing at number 5 together with Malcolm Merlyn? Shouldn’t it be Walter?”

“He might be married to your mother,” The frown on Queen’s face deepens, “but he’s still just the CFO of the company. Every major decision has to go through her. And Queen Consolidated is making a joint bid with Merlyn Global.”

He only receives a grunt in reply as Queen continues poring over the documents.

“So... where is Felicity anyway?” Queen tries to appear nonchalant but John sees the little finger fidgeting he’s doing on his left hand. Lyla pointed it out and soon John began to notice it as well. It’s the only outward indication that Oliver Queen is nervous.

“Soon.” Is all John says while Queen rolls his eyes.   
But they will be seeing each other soon, they’re practically working in the same building.

Queen taps his fingers on the laptop’s edge a few times, then leans back.  
“So... what do I call you, Agent Diggle?”

“Definitely not that, unless you want our covers to be blown.” Queen just returns his glare with a sarcastic one of his own.  
“Diggle’s good. Dig if you want.”

“Hm.” Queen goes back to glancing at the screen. Two more taps of his fingers and he seems to have come to some sort of decision.

He pulls out a BlackBerry from his suit pocket and puts on the “Oliver Queen, dumb billionaire playboy” facade again, affecting a carefree tone that is at least an octave or two higher than his usual bass.  
“Hey Tommy. So... about the party tonight. I know you already booked a place but I saw this really sweet club when I drove by downtown last night."  
"...Yeah couldn’t sleep. You know how it is. But look, it’s this super dope building between all those boring ass office buildings. All covered in glass and shit. Imagine how cool it’s going to look."  
"You do? Thanks Tommy, I knew you would know all the best places. Tonight’s party is gonna be sick. See you there.”

The mask falls again as Queen hangs up the phone with a click. John lifts a brow.  
“The party will be opposite Adam Hunt’s building. I can go scope it out tonight, see if he’s the one. Can Felicity hack in from wherever she is?”

“I’ll message her.” John starts typing away on the other laptop. “Most likely she’ll be able to disable the security system so you can get in easily. From what we’ve uncovered, his personal files are stored on a private server within the building, it’ll take too long to hack remotely. You should be able to access it from his office on the top floor.”

Queen nods, closing the laptop.  
“So... do I keep this?”

John shakes his head,” The one you already have is enough for communication. We don’t want information leaking out so these stay with me at all times.”  
Queen huffs, as if insulted that John doesn’t trust him to be able to keep a laptop hidden in that huge house.

“I’ll see you tonight in your best suit then.” With a curt nod, he leaves the car.

John spends the rest of the day updating Lyla and planning the night’s sting operation. Schematics of the buildings are compiled and he coordinates Smoak’s hacking with Queen’s plans for infiltration. He contemplates requisitioning ARGUS for... bows and arrows. Do they even have those stockpiled? But Queen says that he has it settled. As long as the guy doesn’t steal from John’s own inventory, he shrugs and let’s Queen do what he wants. His results during the Bratva operation speak for themselves.

It’s only 9pm and John is already fighting a headache from the strobing lights and pounding music. Around him, bodies writhe and grind against each other. Alcohol flows freely as everyone holds at least a glass of liquid in their hands. It’s amazing how many people can be gathered to celebrate one guy on such short notice. But then, John knows never to underestimate the power of money, and those who seem willing to spend it frivolously.  
Queen is still nowhere to be found though his buddy Merlyn is already in the crowd, mingling with a small group of scantily-clad women. A brunette from some distance away seems to catch his eye. He leaves his entourage to go to her. The brunette eyes him warily, but allows herself to be lead somewhere quieter by his hand on her upper arm. She seems unlike the others that have been hanging around Merlyn since he arrived. Her outfit would be considered conservative, by the standards of the crowd around. The hem of the skirt hits mid-thigh, but the top has long sleeves and is buttoned up to the neck. So Laurel Lance and Thomas Merlyn are hanging out, and by the looks of it, intimately too.  
The woman Queen cheated on, with her own sister no less, and his best friend. John wonders if the guy knows, and what he thinks about it.

All of a sudden, the music is silenced as a bright spotlight shines on the top of some silver stairs. Oliver Queen is making his grand entrance, at last. As he swaggers nonchalantly down the steps, a grin pasted on his face, the pounding electro pop cuts off.

An enthusiastic Merlyn runs up to sling an arm around his shoulder.  
“Man of the hour!” he declares as “We are the Champions” by Queen blasts on the speakers.

Subtle.

On the main floor, the guy is immediately swarmed. Several glasses of champagne are shoved in his direction though he ignores them as he walks up to the small makeshift stage in the centre.  
Grabbing the shot glass that Merlyn hands him, he downs it in one gulp.

Raising the now empty glass, he grins.  
“I miss tequila!”  
It’s the cue for the festivities to resume. Everyone raises their glasses as the booming music starts playing again.

John checks his watch. Just half an hour more to go.

From his dark corner, he watches as Queen and Merlyn catch up while sipping on their glasses of champagne.

Suddenly, Queen tenses up.  
Following his line of sight, John spots the problem.

Thea Queen is not-so-discreetly negotiating with a man for packets of white powder. According to ARGUS, she’s had a drug problem for a while, though not severe enough to show up on any sort of police radar. Just another rich white girl looking to have a good time.

He wonders if he should intervene when he sees Queen striding forward to her, an annoyed look on his face. John walks nearer, but keeps a distance.

The conversation doesn’t seem to go as planned. Both siblings get more agitated as it prolongs. Though, John also spots the moment Queen discreetly picks the little packet from his sister’s bag.

With a huff, Thea walks away with her friends, leaving her frowning brother behind.  
After a sigh, and a quick glance around, he goes to the dustbin and dumps the powder straight in.

John isn’t too proud to admit that he’s impressed with how Queen quietly handled the situation. Catching Queen’s eye, he nods.  
It’s time.

Queen makes a big show of ordering a shot for himself, as well as the small group of ladies near the bartender. With a flourish, he raises the small glass and downs the clear liquid. Everyone around him cheers and does the same. Slamming it on the table, he laughs and flirts with a few of the ladies. Carefully making a zigzag path around the floor as he laughs and mingles with the partygoers, he eventually makes his way to a side door leading to the bathrooms.

“Call of nature,” he grins to a particularly clingy woman. “I’ll come find you again later.”

In the silent corridor, the two guys make their way to a set of dustbins in the corner that hides their equipment. John retrieves his usual handguns and some ammo, as well as the comms system they’ll be using. Queen dons... a green hood and assembles his collapsible bow.

“If I’m spotted, we can blame it on the hood guy again,” Queen shrugs. “And, there’s a Kevlar lining under this.”

John taps the comms in his ear.  
“Agent Smoak, Agent Queen, do you copy?”

“Yup. Ready when you are.”  
“...yes.”

“Ok, this is just a simple grab and go. I’ll be monitoring the party from here in case you need any backup. Queen, just get to the main computer and get whatever we need. Smoak, you make sure all the entrances and exits are clear, and guide him through the hack in the office.”

“Aye-aye, Captain.”  
“Hn.”

With one last nod, Queen sets off. In his ear, John can hear Smoak typing away on her computers.   
Time to get this over and done with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No first names yet because they're still just ARGUS agents to him. 
> 
> Of course, when I announce a schedule is when I fail to follow it. lol  
> But I'll try to actively update this once or twice a week. The end of the month is just usually a "busier" time for me ;;;
> 
> I feel like my chapters are kind of short...?   
> But also 5k word chapters are not really my thing ;;;  
> And this is my first time really doing a long plot so bear with me as I fumble through. Haha  
> I'm super grateful to everyone who comments, sorry I can't reply to all of them, but they really help keep me motivated to update <3<3<3


	10. another one bites the dust

From one of the shorter adjacent buildings, Oliver shoots a grappling hook arrow to the side of Adam Hunt’s building, a floor below his office. ARGUS would probably have provided more advanced equipment, if he’d asked, but Oliver prefers to rely on the trusty equipment he’s been making, and using, for the past 3 years. Though it doesn’t hurt to have ARGUS’s resources at his disposal, back at headquarters.

He tests the durability of the carbon fiber wires, courtesy of the ARGUS weapons laboratory, that extend from the end of his arrow. Satisfied that it will hold, he uses his bow to zip line to Adam Hunt’s building.   
Using a tiny laser cutter, another little gadget he had “borrowed” from ARGUS, he cuts out a hole big enough for him to slip through.

“I’m in.”  
Diggle grunts in reply while Felicity begins furiously tapping away on a keyboard at her end. 

Oliver isn’t used to so much noise in his ear during a mission. In Hong Kong, there wasn’t much sneaking around like this. In Russia, he was all alone. It’s weird and slightly off-putting. He would have protested more but he knows that he can’t infiltrate the server without Felicity’s expertise.

At this time of the night, there isn’t much activity in the building. Security guards are few and far between. Even so, Oliver silently makes his way to the stairwell and jogs the one floor up to Adam Hunt’s office.   
It takes up most of the floor and even has a short but richly-decorated corridor leading to the main room. The man has red carpeted steps leading to his office and main server room. Talk about ostentatious. Queen Consolidated might be the leading company in this city, but even the CEO’s office is just a simple wide glass-enclosed space.

He touches the tiny button on his chest that activates the comms, “Are the doors unlocked?” 

More typing sounds. The little panel lights next to Hunt’s double office doors turn from red to green. 

“Open Sesame,”  
Oliver can almost hear the grin in her voice. 

“Oh! Oh frak wait! Don’t go in yet!” Her voice in his ear suddenly switches from pleased to startled, verging on the edge of panic.

“What is it?” Diggle asks.

“I‘ve been monitoring all the security cam feeds within the 5 floors but apparently Hunt’s personal server room in his office doesn’t have one and it must be on some kind of separate system or something, but he just suddenly popped up out of it from the office security cams. Adam Hunt is in his office right now, Oliver!”

As she’s shouting all that in his ear, he has already seen the flickering of lights turning on in the office. It’s a good thing the doors are frosted, not clear like in Queen Consolidated. There’s nowhere in the corridor where he won’t cast a shadow that can be seen from the office, so he uses another grappling arrow to latch himself onto the ceiling, waiting like some giant green spider. 

“What’s he doing in there?” Oliver can only rely on Felicity’s eyes on the security cameras to know when it’s safe to make a move. 

“I’m not sure, but he’s on the phone. Why is he even working so late at ni—“  
There’s a sharp whizzing sound, the crash of glass windows and the thump of a body hitting the ground. Oliver rushes into the room before Felicity can say anything else. He knows the sound of a sniper’s kill when he hears it. 

Adam Hunt is lying face down on the ground, surrounded by shards of glass. Blood trickles from a wound in his neck. His phone is still in his hand.   
Oliver squints out at the open window. Muffled thumping music filters through as he looks down to see his party still going strong in the little glass building below.

Suddenly, there’s a sharp stinging pain on his right bicep. Shit. 

He ducks behind a table while he examines the wound.   
“Oliver? What was that?” Felicity’s worried voice sounds in his year. Oh right, she can see what happened.

“Check the security cameras in the building across the street. It belongs to Kord Industries, I think. There’s a sniper on the roof who’s probably trying to escape right now.”

“On it.” The sound of furious typing resumes in his ear.

In the dim light, Oliver can’t see much. But the wound in his arm has settled to a low, annoying throb. It doesn’t seem to have struck too deep in his flesh. 

“Sorry, Oliver. I didn’t manage to catch anything on Kord’s security cameras. Looks like whoever it was used a mini EMP or similar device, all of them shut down about half an hour ago.” 

Of course, a sniper of this caliber wouldn’t do something so sloppy as leave security cameras on.  
He huffs. 

“At least we know it wasn’t Adam Hunt.” Picking up his bow, Oliver attempts to stand but his right leg gives way. That’s... not a good sign. 

He looks around the floor, cursing his lack of some sort of flashlight.  
“Agent Diggle, I think I need backup.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’ve been poisoned. And try to locate at least one bullet when you get here. If we can identify the poison, we can probably identify the hit man at least.”  
He can feel his vision blurring at the edges. Rummaging in one of the inner pockets of his jacket, he retrieves a pinch of herbs. There isn’t much, and he has no water so he’ll just have to swallow them dry. Hopefully, whatever poison was used isn’t too deadly.

“I can’t feel my legs, it’s probably some sort of paralyzing agent. I’ve just taken some herbs but if I stop breathing for more than 2 minutes it might be too late.”

“Oliver what?!”   
Felicity’s panicked shout is the last thing he hears before everything goes black.

_ His right arm and chest are burning.  
_ _ There’s an arrow sticking out of him, but he can’t tell if it’s real or just a hallucination after days floating on the ocean.  
_ _ From the cave entrance, a dark shadow looms closer and closer. _

“Oliver!” He wakes with a start.

Moira Queen looks worriedly down at him. He’s back home, in his room, on his bed. From behind her, Tommy Merlyn gives a nervous chuckle.  
“Welcome back, buddy. Guess your alcohol tolerance really took a hit from those years on the island, huh.”

His head still feels like it’s stuffed with cotton, and his right arm still throbs, albeit dully. The dark blue, long-sleeved shirt he’s wearing covers it up though, so his secret is still safe. Probably.

From his vigil at the door, John Diggle gives a slight nod. 

Oliver blinks once. Twice.  
Oliver Queen smirks and shrugs,” Give me a week or two and we’ll get that all sorted out.”  
He yawns, “I’m still feeling a bit drowsy so,” he grins at Tommy, “rain check on that after party?”

Tommy sighs in relief as Moira shakes her head.  
“We just got you back,” she frets, “please take better care of yourself.”

“Don’t worry, Mum. I’m fine. Just a bit tired.”

With a wave, the two of them reluctantly leave him alone.

John Diggle steps forward.

“Who dressed me?”

Diggle raises a brow.  
“Raisa. This must be a common occurrence for you, she didn’t even bat an eyelid at your bandage.”

Oliver shrugs. “Hard to avoid a few scrapes when you can’t even walk in a straight line.”

“Anyway,” Diggle opens up the laptop he was carrying.  
“You were right about the poison. The bullets were laced with curare. Luckily for us, it’s rare enough to be a singularly unique MO so we’ve managed to narrow it down to one suspect.” 

A few taps of the keys and grainy photos of a man in sunglasses pop up. As well as several extensive rap sheets.  
“This guy’s killed all over the world. Chicago, Markovia, Corto Maltese. We couldn’t find a name in the ARGUS database but his code name is Deadshot.”

“Dead...shot?”

“Hey, Interpol named him, not us.” Diggle shrugs.  
“Good thing those herbs of yours worked because he rarely leaves survivors behind. Hence, the name.”

“It would have been a waste. He was only hired to kill Adam Hunt. If he’s as good as they claim, it was probably just a warning shot.” Oliver squints at the screen.  
“Any luck finding a bullet at the scene?”

“Yup.” A few more taps reveal schematics for a 7.62mm round. “And it’s your lucky day.”  
Diggle smirks as he taps on the screen,” The money trail leads back to the Bratva.”

Well, there’s some good news at least.  
Before Oliver can continue examining the ballistics reports, he is interrupted by the shrill sound of his phone’s ringtone.  
Flipping it around, he sees it’s a blocked number.

“Oh, you probably pick that up,” Diggle points at the phone screen before Oliver can hang up,” Felicity’s been worried sick since last night.”

“Oliver! You’re alive!?” Felicity’s voice half-screams in his ear before he can even say anything. “Well, of course you are since you picked up the phone. Unless it’s Diggle I’m talking to right now.”

“No, it’s... still me.” 

“Oh thank google. But also, what were you thinking, barging into a room with a sniper?! Were you trying to get killed?”

“I’m... sorry?” Oliver is trying to avoid holding the phone further from his ear because Diggle is still right there. But her voice is... loud. He awkwardly scratched the back of his neck while glancing at Diggle who... is he suppressing a laugh? 

“And you keep magical island herbs with you? In your jacket? What?!” 

“...Yes?” It’s a good thing Felicity is... wherever she is right now even though there is no way Oliver is... intimidated by her. But still...

Ok, John Diggle is definitely laughing right now. But he seems to take pity on Oliver, bending down to grab the phone from him.  
“We’re very touched by your concern, Agent Smoak. But aren’t you at work right now?” 

Oliver can’t hear what she replies over the phone, though it does sound suspiciously like a grumble. But Diggle soon hands the phone back.

“Where is she working anyway?” 

Diggle clears his throat and carries on like Oliver hasn’t said anything.  
“So, you should probably take the day off...”

“No, I’m fine.” Oliver grumbles as he starts getting out of the bed.

Diggle shoots him a Look, which he deliberately ignores. 

“It’s just talking to a few Bratva guys. I can handle it, I’m fine.” 

Diggle raises a brow, then nods.  
“The current head of the Starling arm of the Bratva is a guy named Alexei Leonov. You already know where to find him. Just remember to keep your comms open at all times and signal if you need backup.”

Oliver rolls his eyes.  
“They wouldn’t dare attack a Kapitan directly.” 

Diggle just shakes his head.  
“Have fun then, Agent Queen.”

With a wave, he walks out of the room.


End file.
